Tuesday, March 24, 2009

By now you've surely heard of the plane crash near the Butte, Montana airport?

There's not much to say, is there? It's heartbreaking that three families were just wiped out, now gone. Three homes, left for family vacations, that wait, empty now. One set of grandparents lost not only a beloved son, but their daughter-in-law and all of their grandbabies, another very nearly so -- along with two of their daughters, another a son who was becoming known as a surgeon -- as stellar in his field as his dad. I don't know how a person goes on drawing breath him or herself when suffering through the aftermath of such a thing. It seems too much to bear.

One of the dads who died was a freshman med student when I was pregnant with E on the same campus where we were. Seems like one of the moms was involved in the same mom's group I was when we lived there the second time. Heavens. I can't think about any part of this without welling up.

I hope the remaining members of the extended families can lean on each other and continue to draw on their faith as they grieve and move through the next parts -- funerals, memorials, investigations, press coverage.

Prayers for the families as we all squeeze those beloved littles and their mama/daddy just a bit tighter.

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Me

I'm mothering five gorgeous, perfect children, and homeschooling three of them. I am one of the best-blessed mamas in the universe. Oh and -- there's the small matter of neuro issues here. I suspect that somehow the littlest one's Special Needs behave as some sort of condenser that delivers unusual configurations of Rainbows, Butterflies and Bliss, right in the midst of the ubiquitous and itinerant crazy bits. So we have some stories to tell.